


The forests of Asgard

by unicornseverywhere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: ? maybe ?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Falling In Love, Fluff, I try to be funny, Like very little, Little bit of angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornseverywhere/pseuds/unicornseverywhere
Summary: Harry had often wondered, thought, gazed longingly into the distance, wanted to meet his soulmate. It was such a rare thing to have, it was said to be someone’s perfect match, their destiny. Well, Harry thought sardonically, I would know a thing or two about destiny. When he’d been eleven and found out that not only was he a wizard, but he was The Boy Who Lived, thinking about the two curved lines on his wrist had come in third. Not that people hadn’t noticed. Most thought it was a matter of course that The Chosen One would have a soulmate, and what a lucky person they’d be, and found it appropriate to tell Harry how lucky he was, of all things. Then they’d remember who exactly they were talking to, get a horrified look on their face, and back away slowly, as if from a frightened animal. Or so it usually went.





	The forests of Asgard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work in this fandom, and I know this is a bit of an unpopular ship, but I stumbled across it at one point and it's been down the rabbit hole ever since. I hope you enjoy reading it, and sorry for any mistakes! I checked and re-checked this thing like 8000 times, but some things may have slipped through. Also please take the time to read the end notes. 
> 
> Also also please forgive my horrible title-ing skills, they're horrible, I know.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy, and thank you for reading!

Harry had often wondered, thought, gazed longingly into the distance, wanted to _meet_ his soulmate. It was such a rare thing to have, it was said to be someone’s perfect match, their destiny. _Well,_ Harry thought sardonically _I would know a thing or two about destiny_ . When he’d been eleven and found out that not only was he a wizard, but he was _The Boy Who Lived_ , thinking about the two curved lines on his wrist had come in third. Not that people hadn’t noticed. Most thought it was a matter of course that _The Chosen One_ would have a soulmate, and what a lucky person they’d be, and found it appropriate to tell Harry how lucky _he_ was, of all things. Then they’d remember who exactly they were talking to, get a horrified look on their face, and back away slowly, as if from a frightened animal. Or so it went most times.

 

After a few years, most people in Hogwarts had got over it, it was like seeing his scar to them. _Though there were some that never got over that either,_ he thought bitterly. When the war had been over and done with, Harry had pretty much up and left. He felt sad and dismayed over his break up with Ginny, more than anything, having to tell her he couldn’t do it anymore, because he was no longer Harry Potter The Boy Who Lived, he was Harry Potter Master of Death, and he had to figure out for himself who that was. There was also the fact that Harry had stopped aging after coming back, and sooner or later time would pull them apart, even if they stayed together. Harry had started trying to come to terms with everyone he knew and loved dying. He was getting there. Maybe.

 

So he’d finished his eighth year, after strangely becoming friends with Draco Malfoy and then having the realization that soon this new person he’d barely started knowing, and actually liking, would die too. Soon would be a relative term, but since he had eternity now (or at least until the end of death), he thought it was okay for him to use it. He’d tried being an Auror for a few years, but he was tired of the chase, and way too many people died in this line of work for him to ever be completely comfortable. He didn’t even know what his title meant yet, he just knew the hollows obeyed him, considered him their master, and he had no choice in the matter. He hadn’t actually started seeing dead people, or having to pass souls over the divide, so at least there was that.

 

After his flopped attempt at being a dark wizard catcher, Harry had, well, stopped trying anything altogether. He’d been hiding in Grimmauld place for a few years, but too many people knew where it was, and too many memories haunted the place, and also there was Kreacher. So he’d left it to Teddy and Andromeda and portkeyed to New York, the land of the free and all that other crap. The wizarding community there was tightly knit, and a little too much on the wrong side of weird to Harry, so he never tried immersing. Half the reason he’d left had been not seeing people around him die. At least not those he cared about.

 

And then the attack on New York happened, and Harry had felt the skin of his wrist burn for the very first time. It had felt surreal, the knowledge that one of those in the battle would be his destiny. He’d tried keeping up with the Muggle news after moving to New York and deciding to live the rest of his infinity in peace, and he knew who most of them were. He knew they’d all been in New York before, and he knew his wrist had never felt even remotely warm then. So that left him two options, The God of Thunder, or the God of Lies and Mischief. The old Harry would have been a little horrified at the second prospect, but his present self had no discerning opinions over good or evil anymore. The world was not black and white, and death certainly made no difference between heroes and villains. He didn’t necessarily condone murder, but he wasn’t exactly a saviour anymore. Everybody died, eventually. Well, he was not certain regarding Asgardians, but he’d have to look into that later.

 

When Thor had come back alone to defeat whatever the bloody hell that thing in London had been, Harry had known. His skin hadn’t warmed, not even when The God of Thunder had come to visit his friends in New York. The deal had been sealed then. He thought about it a lot. An alien was to be his perfect match, another part of his soul, lost in the vastness of space, probably in a prison on his home planet. Harry had had complicated in his life before, but this was getting ridiculous. He wanted to meet him, so badly. Of course he did, it was the natural reaction to have, and he wondered if Loki had felt it too. If his skin had warmed and his brain had stuttered with the realization that his mate was on Earth, the planet he had tried to conquer with an alien army. Harry sighed. He supposed they had millennia to find each other again, but Harry didn’t want to wait. He had finally found someone who wouldn’t die and leave him behind. He wanted to share his bourdain with someone. He wanted to understand Loki, and his reasons and fears, his desires and hopes, and help him achieve them - to a reasonable extent. He wanted-. Harry stopped his train of thought. It was the first time he’d had any desire in years. He was yearning to meet his soulmate and they hadn’t even been in miles of each other.

 

Harry had a lot of _ideas_ after that, none of which seemed particularly inspired. He surely couldn’t find a port key to another planet, or somehow ‘talk’ to death to transport him between worlds, as much as it seemed to favour him. He also wouldn’t expose himself to the Muggle world in other to advertise his pairing with an intergalactic villain, and would not seek out the most secretive Organisation in the free world, who had kept superheroes hidden from the muggles for who knows how long, knock on their front door, and demand to see his soulmate. After that came the more reasonable ideas, somewhat. He wanted to call Hermione and Ron and tell them all about it. He’d tried distancing himself from them as much as possible before leaving, which, sadly, hadn’t been as hard to do as one would have thought, what with their marriage and their second child on the way. He still loved them dearly, but they hadn’t been, well...close, per se, in years. So that left only one other person who he could talk to that would be even a modicum of help.

  
  


“I sincerely hope you’re calling to apologise.”

 

“Draco, hi. It’s good to hear you.” God, he missed talking to someone who _knew_ him.

 

“Well I would say the same thing, only it’s not _my_ fault we haven’t heard from each other in months.” There was definitely a worried drawl in his voice, hidden behind all the sarcasm. Harry felt warmth spread through his chest at the display of friendship. Him and Malfoy had really come a long way.

 

“I’m really sorry, I am. But New York has been.. hectic, let’s say. It’s actually why I called..” and why he hadn’t floo-ed, he didn’t think he could say all he had to today if he could see Draco as well, not just hear him. Thank Merlin he’d made all his friends buy Muggle phones before he left.

 

“And here I was thinking you were just seeking the pleasure of my company.” It was like you could feel the raised eyebrow and eye roll, but Harry said nothing and let Malfoy continue, knowing the question would come. Draco didn’t disappoint.

 

“What is it, Harry?” He asked it quietly, delicately, and Harry was a little astonished, for a moment or two, and more than a little proud with the person Draco Malfoy had become.

 

Now came the time to actually talk. To share his problem. Right. Come on, Gryffindor courage, come on.

 

“Well. I may or may not have found out who my soulmate is.” A sharp intake of breath was his answer. People knew these were delicate matters, and he didn’t often talk about the mark at all, it had never been a priority or at the forefront of his mind, what with all the wars going on and the fact it had never been warm. But he’d talked to Draco one night, when the world had been closer to waking than falling asleep, but wasn’t quite there yet. Draco knew.

 

“Harry, that’s... a lot. Are you okay? Who is it? Found out? So you haven’t met yet.” Draco had always been perceptive, only second to Hermione in intelligence in their group of friends throughout 8th year, and sometimes not even her, as they were constantly battling for top of the class. Honestly, it had been good for Hermione to have some healthy competition. Harry had been more than pleased when she’d one day invited Draco to study with them in the library, after him and Harry had been hanging out together for a few weeks. That had been as much a show of her and Ron’s acceptance he was going to need or get.

 

“I’m a lot of things, and I’m not sure okay is one of them. You can’t say anything to anyone, but I needed someone to talk to. Someone who’d understand.”

 

“Of course, you have my word.”

 

“Okay so I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with Muggle news lately-“ Malfoy only offered a small snort in return, so Harry had to explain “-well, a lot has been going on. They have superheroes now, people with special powers, not magic, not like us, but much more powerful than average muggles. One would argue much smarter, too. I’ve known for a while, since a few months ago, an attack on New York happened. By aliens, like, beings from other planets. In Muggle mythology, in the north of Europe, they have stories of gods of thunder, and war, and mischief, and prosperity. Turns out, they’re not really legends and myths, they are just Asgardians, people that were much more advanced than muggles when they’d visited earth before, and so they’d named them all powerful beings. The attack on the city was carried out by one such being, named Loki, known in Norse mythology as the god of Lies and Mischief, who also happens to be the soulmate I was telling you about. His brother is named Thor, the God of Thunder, and he’s a hero to earth. Loki failed to enslave earth, obviously, and was captured and taken back to his home on Asgard to be trialed. I would assume he’s in prison now. On another planet. In outer space.”

 

Harry had said it all because he thought that if he’d stopped, he’d have never finished the story at all. Silence was the only thing heard at the other end of the conversation. Then, after a long eternity of contemplation, Draco simply sighed. Harry almost sighed in return, but his breathing was nowhere near regular enough to allow such an action. He absentmindedly noticed he was panting a little. He was winded, and his palms were sweaty where they held his phone and he hadn’t felt so much at such an intensity in a long time. He was almost grateful for all the panic, but then he remembered _why_ he was panicking and decided on feeling dread instead.

 

“I don’t even know where to start, so I’ll start with ‘of course this would happen to you’.”

 

Draco had never been jealous of the mark, had never cared that Harry had a soulmate when he didn’t. It was a rare and special thing to have, and it may have had something to do with his misplaced sense of self worth or lack thereof after the war, but he’d told Harry he didn’t feel like he deserved one. Harry had whacked him over the back of the head and told him he was an idiot, and yes, he didn’t have a soulmate, but he’d better damn well find someone to be happy with if that’s what he wanted, because he deserved it. It had taken a few months but he’d drilled it into Malfoy’s head that he deserved happiness. None of his other friends had looked jealous either, but a longing glance was thrown to his wrist every now and again. He couldn’t blame them, really. He’d have wanted a soulmate too, if he didn’t have one. Someone who was _meant_ to be his.

 

“Yeah, I know, I’ve been telling myself the same thing, and the irony of the situation isn’t lost on me, but now I need help.”

 

“Need help doing what, exactly?” the blonde man asked wearily.

 

“Nothing much, really. I want to meet him. But I haven’t the faintest clue on how to go about it. I can’t exactly go knocking on Asgard’s door. I’ve looked into it, they’re more of a bridge kind of people.” He probably sounded nonsensical to Draco, but the other didn’t give him time to rephrase.

 

“Look, Harry. I know you don’t care about, urm, good and bad anymore, but this Loki seems to not have the best track record. Are you sure you should be seeking him out?” there was hesitance in his voice, and for good reason. It was almost taboo to know who your soulmate was and not want to pursue a relationship with them. It was like denying yourself basic human rights. Like politely declining oxygen.

 

“Draco, I have to meet him. To get to know him. He’s, I think he’s immortal.” the _too_ was left unsaid. “He’s who I’m meant to be with, maybe I can help him become his best self. And if who he is now is his best self, then I’ll try to be with him anyway, as long as he wants that too.” Of course, this was assuming he’d ever even get the chance to meet the other man in the first place. Ever. At any point in time. Harry wasn’t usually one for despair, but talking about it, saying it out loud, made every problem so much more real. And the solutions he’d came up with so far so much more crazy.

 

“I know, Harry. I just want you to be sure. I’ll look into it, and you can talk to me about it anytime, you know that. Maybe we could meet soon, as much as it pains me to say this, I do miss your ruddy arse.”

 

“I know, I miss you too, Draco. And we should definitely arrange something, but just know, I do plan on meeting him, whether you approve or not. I’m sorry.” Harry wasn’t really, but he didn’t want to hurt his friend. He simply needed to meet Loki, whether now or in a hundred years, he _had to_.

* * *

 

  


Of course. _Of course_ his brother would choose bloody Midgard to be their people’s saving grace, of all places. And Loki, like the reformed little master mind that he was, could do nothing but offer a few choice words of advice on how there were many other realms that would suit their needs much better than the planet which Loki, in an admitted moment of weakness and recklessness had tried to conquer, and which would probably execute Loki on sight, the moment he stepped foot on their soil. Thor, optimistic as always, had assured him that no harm would come to him, that the people of Midgard would understand and accept his imperative role in the saving of Asgard, and would therefore not give him any plight, just because Thor said so. Loki wasn’t inclined to think so, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it, he supposed.

 

Then there was the matter of his _soulmate._ A midgardian, as they had proved to be during Loki’s last, well, unfortunate visit to their home planet. The god of Mischief had a lot of thoughts on the matter, and most would not see the light of day, but he entertained some. He debated whether it would be worth it to even look for them, seeing as they’d be dead in the blink of an eye by Loki’s standards of time. And even he, painful as it was to admit it, was not invulnerable to the breaking of a fully formed soul bond, assuming they’d even form one, as there was also the matter of him being who he was, and having done what he had done. Most midgardians knew to fear him or despise him by now, or both, if he was lucky. So that didn’t leave Loki with much say in the matter. He would stay away and wait for them to die, as morbid and painful as that sounded, even in his own head.There was nothing to be done about it, anyway. Even if Loki wanted- No. Loki didn’t want, because he’d learned long ago, what he wanted, he couldn’t have, so better not to desire anything to begin with.

 

Loki stared at the universe behind the clear glass of the ship. It was so dark, and cold, and void. He wondered how light could ever travel its expanse. Loki admired light, in a way. How it was fast, and almost impossible to break, and how it was a metaphor for hope and power. Loki had wished, long ago, to stand in the light, but his older brother had always cast a shadow over him. The god shuddered, and stepped away from the glass. The sole of his shoes made clicking sounds on the metal of the ship as he made his way back to his room, not looking back. Light was overrated anyway. What good was light to a blind man?

 

* * *

  
  


_“Remember that time you said you wouldn’t go knocking on their door because that would literally be the worst idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve walked straight into the hands of a dark lord, ready to embrace your death?”_ Yes, I remember, but he didn’t give me much of a choice, did he?

 

Harry wondered if having this conversation with himself inside his own head made him crazy, and then he decided that no, having this conversation with himself _out loud_ would make him crazy, otherwise it was fine. People talked to themselves all the time, right? And like he’d said (to himself), Loki hadn’t given him much choice on the matter.

 

When Thor had made his return to Earth with a ship full of Asgardians, the authorities of his planet had made them more than welcome, after hearing about the tragic end of their own planet. And with Thor had come Loki, who was now reformed, apparently, which honestly made everything easier for Harry, as he didn’t have to sneak into a prison or something of the sort just to see his soulmate. Didn’t even have to look for ways to travel to other planets, his soulmate was _right there._ For years Harry had looked, and sought, and in a moment he’d barely admit to himself, cried, because he just couldn’t find any way. Draco, and eventually Ron and Hermione, had jumped in and helped him in his ravenous pursuit, but it had all been fruitless. And then the fates had been kind enough to practically deliver him on a silver platter. So Harry had waited, and given his soulmate time to settle, and start looking for him in his own time, even though the constant warmth of his wrist made it _so hard_ to just wait. He’d waited for years, and he was not a patient person. Which, he supposed, he’d have to deal with sooner or later, since he’d have to fill eternity somehow, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t all be exciting and entertaining.

 

After a few month from their arrival, when Harry hadn’t heard anything or felt the temperature on his wrist change even the slightest bit, the Master of Death had had enough. It was time to take matters into his own hands, as it often proved to come to.

 

_Very well, dear soulmate, if that’s how you want to play it._

 

Ah, but how does one knock on a door when one doesn’t know where to door is? They were a secret organisation, Harry was pretty sure he couldn’t exactly find their PO box and send them a letter. So that left him with the next best thing, which also happened to be significantly better advertised.

* * *

  
  


He popped into existence in the middle of the Avengers tower, and marveled, for a second, at how unprotected muggles were. _Honestly,_ no wards whatsoever. It was a pity, really, these people were supposed to be Earth’s mightiest heroes, and he could barge right in without breaking a sweat.

 

In front of Harry stood a massive, clear window, showcasing the New York skyline, and it was breathtaking. The wizard itched to get his hands on his broom and fly across the tall buildings, to dodge skyscrapers at the last minute, to hover hundreds of feet in the air and look at the world, the maze of streets below him, and feel unimportant, insignificant, if only for a while.

 

“Well, that’s worrying.”

 

Harry turned sharply at the sound of the monotone voice. A man, about his height, wearing a shirt and jeans, with a 5 o'clock shadow, and a cup of what appeared to be coffee was standing behind a counter, looking straight at Harry.

 

“JARVIS, is that man really there, and did he appear out of thin air, or do I need to get some sleep more than I thought I did?”

 

“I’m afraid he is really there, sir, though I can’t quite explain how he has managed to, well, appear, to use your words, sir.”

 

Harry wanted to look about and find the robotic voice, which seemed to be coming from the ceiling, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man. He didn’t appear at all worried that another man had quite literally just popped up in his living room. He didn’t want to come across as rude or invasive however, as much as the latter might be inevitable now, considering the circumstances, so he cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter, turned toward the man, and offered what he hoped was a reassuring expression.

 

“My name is Harry Potter, and I don’t mean you any harm. I am looking for Loki.”

 

The other snorted and carefully put his cup down on the counter, making a decided tap in the silence of the room. He gave Harry a calculated look, and then spoke, monotone as ever, but with an edge of something else in his voice too, something Harry couldn’t exactly recognize, but categorized as wariness until further inspection.

 

“Look, buddy, I don’t know how you got here, past my defenses and alarms, and although I thought it was awesome and I’d love to talk to you about that, you can’t just come in here and make justice for the rest of the world by punishing Loki for something he did years ago and for which he’s already paid, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

 

That gave Harry pause. The pause lasted long enough for him to notice that his wrist was practically burning, and it was all he could do to stand still and consider the other man’s words, and not take off running through the building like a lunatic, searching for his soulmate. Surely, Loki could feel it too. Surely, he was already on his way to meet Harry. Surely, he wanted to, wanted him. Harry swallowed harshly and focused back on the other man. By the way the other had said it, it sounded like this happened often enough, and he was used to it somewhat, if annoyed by the disturbance. So people clearly showed up and demanded punishment for Loki. And the Avengers didn’t give in to their demands. They protected Loki. Good, that was good. But that also meant he had to explain himself.

 

“Look, uh- ” words failed him for a second, until he realised exactly who he was talking to. He thought the other man would have been quite offended to be unrecognized in his own home, so Harry was grateful to his mind for providing him with the right information at the right time, for once. “-Mr. Stark, I’m really not here to hurt Loki. You see, he’s my soulmate. I felt it when he got here, and I tried to give him time to adjust and come seek me out on his own, but he’s taking his sweet time, so I thought I’d come check.”

 

He only received a smirk in return, which didn’t give much away about the other man’s thoughts. “You know, most people claim Thor is their soulmate, when it comes to it.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m not most people. And I can actually prove it, unlike all the rest of the visitors you seem to have been getting.”

 

Tony gave him a once over and sighed. “Yes, you do seem to be quite different from most people. I do still want to know how exactly you entered my home, but you can have a seat. JARVIS, let Loki know he has a visitor.”

 

* * *

 

  


Loki was ready to let his head loll back, stare at the ceiling, and scream _Why me?!_ But that wouldn’t do. One moment he was sitting in the room Stark had provided months ago, which he’d gradually made his own, reading one of his new books and drinking what had become his favourite tea, and the next his book was on the floor and his wrist was in his hand, because it was _burning._ And that could only mean one thing.

 

Tsk, troublesome Midgardians.

 

He didn’t even have time to finish his scowling when the disembodied voice he’d become somewhat familiar with started from the ceiling.

 

“Sir, there is a man in the living room of Mr. Stark’s floor, claiming to be your soulmate.”

 

Loki grit his teeth. He’d been doing so well ignoring it, too. He’d told his brother and his friends eventually, when they wouldn’t stop asking about the contemplating expression he fell into sometimes, the long silences, the melancholy of imagining something that would never come to pass. His brother had understood, and had silently offered his support to Loki, which hadn’t come as a surprise. What had, however, was the fact that Loki believed him. He actually thought his brother understood, and was there for him, and the warmth that provided to his soul was welcomed. He’d been cold for so long. The Midgardians had been outraged, however. Only the Captain and the one with the metal arm, Barnes, had soulmates. _Each other._ How very fortunate for them. They didn’t understand. They wanted him to find his soulmate, claiming it wasn’t fair to them. Well it wasn’t fair to Loki either, and they could judge him all they wanted, as long as they did it silently.

“I know, JARVIS. I’m going.”

 

And so he went, but the moment he stepped into the room, off the elevator, the air was knocked out of his lungs. He would have gasped out loud, if he hadn’t thought that would have been a little too melodramatic, even for him. As much as Stark liked to tell him he was a Diva, whatever that was.

 

The other man, his _soulmate_ , as his wrist seemed to scream at him, was standing on one of the couches, staring out at the skyline beyond the glass. He looked relaxed enough, not anxious, but, if Loki dared dream, he looked _excited._ Gods, he wanted to know everything about him. And wasn’t that a strange thought, because surely this measly human couldn’t be that interesting. But since he was already here, he might as well see what the other had to say. He took a few more steps into the room, and by this point he was sure his soulmate knew he was there, and was choosing not to turn around. Was choosing to let him take the last steps. When he was close enough to the couch that he could see the man’s profile, the air seemed to shift, and this time he really did gasp. Not only was the man very young, (gods, was he even a _man_ at all?), but he was special. Very special, if the shiver that wracked through Loki was anything to go by.

 

“You have magic” were the first words he’d spoken to his soulmate. Honestly, Loki didn’t even regret it. If his soulmate had magic, that meant he was more special than most other humans, and that served as enough proof to make him reconsider his status on how unfortunate this pairing was.

 

The other man turned to him then, and gave him a disarming smile. He wore round glasses, but his eyes, emerald green behind the ugly spectacles, were breathtaking. It was like seeing the deep forests of Asgard reflected in his soulmate’s eyes, and Loki could get lost there, yet still feel at home.

 

“You sure took your time, Loki.” he chuckled, and rubbed his hands on his jeans, as if to dry them. Maybe he was nervous after all. He cleared his throat and stood up from the couch in one fluid motion, and Loki had to gulp, because his soulmate was, well, really fit. He was shorter than Loki, but more built, and he could think of a number of things those thighs and biceps could do to him that were completely inappropriate for a first meeting. He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts, _for now._

 

“I’m Harry Potter, it’s nice to meet you.” He stretched his hand for a handshake, and Loki was lost for a second, before he came back to himself and remembered his manners. The second their hands touched, his wrist seemed to come on fire for only a second, before a comforting warmth started spreading from the contact throughout his body, and Loki had to do all he could to keep from shuddering.

 

“Well, Harry, you have me at a disadvantage, as you seem to know exactly who I am, yet I know little to nothing about you.” He hoped his voice hadn’t failed him now, and was as smooth and velvety as it ever was.

 

“Indeed, but we have time. That is, if you, er, if you want to know me.” He looked uncertain all of a sudden, and Loki connected the dots immediately. Of course his soulmate would know he’d been on Earth, if he could feel the warmth of his skin, his soulmate could too. And thought Loki didn’t want him, because he had not reached out to him. Gods, he had an urge to wrap his soulmate in his arms and comfort him, and tell him he wanted him, and he was so ready to love him, but he was so scared to do so. Instead, he looked around, and found the living room empty. Surely, Stark must have made himself scarce before he’d got there, as he seemed to spend most of his time in his lab or living room. He was grateful either way, he didn’t want to be seen as vulnerable right now, or ever, in front of his (grudgingly admitted) and his brother’s friends. But he could, and would show some vulnerability to his soulmate, now that he’d been shown it in return. He could do as much. He wanted to.

 

“I do. I want to know you… Harry, it’s just a little hard for me to come to terms with... who you are. That is to say, you’re mortal, and I’m not, by comparison at least, and I didn’t know-” he stopped abruptly. Could he really admit this? Was this okay? Did the fact that they’d met change anything? It certainly seemed to amplify his fears, if anything. He could easily fall in love with his soulmate, and he’d be left utterly broken once the other man died. But, looking at the sincere, almost pleading green eyes in front of him, Loki thought it was okay. If he got to spend a few decades by this man’s side, that could be enough. He’d learn to make it enough. “I didn’t know if it would be worth the pain of losing you, when you’d eventually die. But I can see now that it will. I’d like to spend the rest of your life knowing you, if you’d allow me that.”

 

For a moment, Loki was worried, despite knowing the other man had come looking for him. Was worried that he would be rejected, because he was himself. He hoped the other didn’t have some kind of hero complex and would feel the need to ‘fix’ him. He hoped they could just, make each other as happy as possible, for as long as possible. But then he heard a laugh, and his hopes were crushed as soon as they’d surfaced. This was why he never made himself vulnerable, damn it.

 

“Oh, Loki. That’s what you were worried about? Well, actually, now that I think about it, it is a legitimate concern for you, since you didn’t know who I was. I’m afraid that if your request stands, you’ll have a lot more time to know me than an average human lifespan.” An expression of warm concern took over his soulmate’s features, and Loki wanted to touch him, to put his hands on his cheeks, and trace the lines of his lips, count his delicate lashes, and get lost in the green forests behind his eyes. When he registered the words, however, he was confused, more than anything. He raised an eyebrow.

 

“How do you mean?” not knowing something was never to his liking.

 

“What I mean is, I’m a lot different from most humans. I could say I’m the only one of my kind. Like you said, I know who you are, and you’re seen as a god to my people, but I’m, well, something of an entity myself. You noticed I have magic right away, and you’re right, but there is more to it than that. I won’t die, Loki. Ever. I won’t leave you. There’s more of a chance of you dying before me, if anything.” It seemed too good to be true, but then Harry continued, not giving him a chance to consider all the possibilities. “The reason for all of this is, I’m the master of death. That does not mean I have complete control over it, though I have never tried to command it, but I will not die, as long as death exists.”

 

Loki stared, somewhat reverently. Here he had been, worried that finding his soulmate would be a futile affair, since he’d die before they could even blink, and here his Harry was, telling him he was immortal and virtually one of the most powerful beings in the universe. The fates sure had a funny way of making it up to him for his rather tragic upbringing.

 

“Well then, it’s an honor to meet you, _örlög mín_.” Loki reached out and grasped his soulmate’s hand again, feeling the warmth settle over him, and thought absentmindedly that he could get used to it, despite his preference for cold. He bent and kissed the back of his soulmate’s hand, as was customary, and released a pleased smirk as a blush took over his Harry’s features. Why, he really looked rather lovely in that shade of pink. The courting process would be fairly satisfying, Loki would imagine.

 

Straightening to his full height, he released the warm hand from his, and took a seat on the couch, indicating for his soulmate to do as well. Once they were both settled, Loki couldn’t help but notice every little thing about his destined one. The way he sat, with a confidence ingrained in his bones, but not an ounce of arrogance. The way his gaze was weighed down by loss, but not brought to heel by pain. The way he was slowly leaning towards Loki, giving him his full attention, showing interest and looking ready to hang onto every word the god said. Not that he needed it, but he could feel his ego being stroked. He should have known better than to think the fates ever made mistakes.

 

“There is much we should discuss before we proceed with the courting process, _elskan._ ”

 

“I agree, we- wait what? Courting? And what does elskan mean? And the thing you called me before?” his soulmate really looked adorable with a confused expression as well, and Loki was beginning to think this would become a usual occurrence and he’d often get distracted by the beauty of his soulmate. He could learn to live with that.

 

“Yes, Harry, courting. I believe we should learn a little more about each other before we dive into it. We can begin at once if you so desire, however. I’d be pleased either way.”

 

“You didn’t answer my question, but, um, okay? We should talk, yeah. And then you can start courting me? What does that entail, exactly?” Harry’s voice had raised in pitch by the of his question, and Loki was entranced.

 

“I called you _my destined one_ , and then _darling._ Courting would be, well, the equivalent of dating to Midgardians, but with more class. I do have something important to say, however.”

 

The blush had returned to his soulmate’s cheeks after the endearments, and Loki’s expression broke into a pleased grin in response. He never thought he’d very much enjoy making someone feel wanted before, as he’d never quite experienced it himself, but he did. He wanted Harry to know how much Loki wanted him, _all_ of him.  Harry seemed to steel himself and answered.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“You said you knew I was viewed as a god to your people of old, so I will assume you know the myths about me being the God of Lies and Mischief. There are also some more disgracing rumors that I will not dignify with a response, but just know I have never birthed or sired any children, ever.”

 

Harry released a startled laugh, but didn’t say anything in return, simply nodded in understanding and letting him continue. Loki could admit to himself that his soulmate’s laugh was melodious and pleasing to his ears, and the pleasure he felt by being the one responsible for it made his toes curl and a smile lift the corners of his lips lightly.

 

“That being said, I am who I am. I’m sure you’re very much aware that my last visit to Earth was not on the friendliest of terms. Although I can assure you I have no further desire to rule your planet, and I have acknowledged the reason my actions were wrong, I am still me. I am not a hero, nor do I plan to join my brother’s little band of misfits. I would like, however, to spend the rest of eternity with you. But I hope you don’t expect me to repent and think you can change who I am, because you will be sorely disappointed.”

 

His soulmate gave a somber look, and nodded seriously. He cautiously moved across the couch until their thighs were touching, and took his hand again.

 

“I appreciate you telling me that, Loki. You can be sure I won’t try to change you, just get to know you. I’m glad to hear you wish for us to be together. I imagine eternity does not phase you much, but my people, my friends and loved ones, will all die sooner rather than later. I’m glad I will always have you, from now on. I don’t believe in good and evil anymore, in heroes and villains. Though you could say I was a savior at one point in my life, it wasn’t a choice I made. But there is all the time in the world to reveal our tragic backstories to each other, right?”

 

Loki had never felt more relief at hearing any words in his life. His little soulmate really was perfect. And beautiful, and strong, and kind, and _his._ His by universal law. Loki wanted nothing more than to kiss him. So he did.

  
He leaned forward and placed his hand on Harry’s jaw, rubbing his thumb across his cheek. His breath hitched for a second, and then he leant forward, or Harry did, or they both did it at the same time, all Loki knew was that their lips met, and it was like the universe was falling into place around them. Harry’s lips were a little chapped, but so warm, and they moved against the god’s so perfectly. They were eager but not sloppy, attentive, and so so _good_. Loki nipped at the other’s plushy bottom lip, and was rewarded with a gasp and a little moan that did things to Loki. He pushed forward, his tongue invading his soulmate’s mouth, and the warmth and wetness was enough to make Loki stop breathing. Their tongues moved against each other, a dance of muscles and desire, and his soulmate was clearly experienced. The thought made Loki growl and nip at his Harry’s bottom lip again, this time biting harder and pulling the man’s lip into his mouth. Harry released another breathy moan and Loki drew back. He needed air. They both gasped when their lips parted, and Loki rested his forehead on his soulmate’s. Staring at the green eyes in front of him, Loki was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I really hope you liked it!! I am currently working on a chaptered continuation of this universe, but I want to finish it before I post the first chapter so I know I won't abandon it midway through (like I do, being the horrible person I am). If you want to read that, please let me know!~ I love getting feedback, and kudos and comments are my life force. Also if you have any particular requests for the chaptered work coming up, please let me know, as it's still a WIP so I may be able to add this and that into the story. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and let me know what you thought!


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